Page 23 - Catalog Poems Per 2

“The Day” Anna Pechenyuk

The morning light breaks through the window

The birds are chirping; I dream to be back on my pillow,

Time doesn’t wait, I must not be late.

To school I go, wondering how the day will flow,,

And hoping that it will not bring woe.

The day is a canvas, with endless chances,

That canvas could be painted, destroyed, or left untainted.

The day could be a mystery, left yet unrevealed.

But it does not stop me from wishing to succeed.

How unprecedented, yet how real, is the day, a canvas.

On it could be painted sadness, but on it could also be found bees’ dances.

As the day expires, I think back and wonder,

With what was the canvas painted, or did it remain untainted?

But the truth is, every day is a new beginning, and

What was not accomplished today can be achieved tomorrow,

Leaving a brand new canvas with a new imprinting. 23